


Merry Christmas Darling

by tagalonglovers



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Trauma, Romance, doctor!kurt, sick!blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tagalonglovers/pseuds/tagalonglovers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in the hospital on Christmas Eve, Doctor Kurt Hummel finds himself immeasurably entertained by the actions of his newest patient, Mr. Blaine Anderson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas Darling

**Author's Note:**

> This is sooo not in season, but I'm adding things slowly to AO3 so hey, Christmas in May?

"Doctor Hummel! You have to come see this!" Doctor Kurt Hummel doesn't think anything of it at first, barely even glances up from the charts he's marking. His mind is already ten hours ahead, dreaming about his nice warm bed in his cozy loft and the sound of It's a Wonderful Life playing on his nice flat screen television.

It's ten at night on Christmas Eve. The patients are tucked in their beds and the nurses are scattered throughout, easing worries and checking vitals. There's not a person in the hospital who wants to be there—not even the personnel—but someone has to stay.

Unlike most, Kurt Hummel had volunteered to stay for the night. His immediate family doesn't live in the city, he doesn't have young children or a husband waiting at home to spend the holidays with him. His dad's in Ohio, and his best friend is spending the holiday abroad with her new boyfriend. Kurt Hummel doesn't have much waiting for him this holiday season, and, in a show of good faith, the second he heard that one of his fellow residents who was newly married was scheduled for Christmas Eve he swapped for her shift without question.

He regrets it now. He doesn't regret that Dr. Gina Dade is celebrating Christmas with her family; he only regrets that he didn't remember just how boring an average night shift winds up being. Without fail, he knows that the night shift will drag on forever despite any commotion or accidents that happen. Even though Dr. Hummel would never ever ask for a code, he kind of hopes there will be some kind of excitement to keep him awake for the next ten hours.

"Kurt! Come on, come with me! You gotta see this!" There's a fierce tugging on his arm, and he startles out of his thoughts to turn to the pretty Puerto Rican nurse at his side. Eva Santiago is stunning even so late at night, glowing with a bright smile on her face. She doesn't give him a second to complain, taking him firmly by the forearm and dragging him away from the nurse's station to the other side of the ward.

At first, he thinks she's dragging him to their small break room, but when they slip through the double doors and pass the bank of elevators decorating the hallway, he speaks up, "Eva, where are you taking me? Ms. Jamison has been fighting off her fever all night and you and I both know Michaels needs to be watched. You can't just take me—"

"Shush. Dr. Miller is taking care of it," she instructs firmly, dragging him purposely toward the west hallway toward another wing of the building. "You need to see this."

"Fine," Kurt mumbles, curiosity getting the best of him, even though he really shouldn't be leaving.

"Jayna called me a few minutes ago, you're going to die, Kurt." She whispers, approaching two very unfamiliar double doors. She steps to the side, flashing her ID card and types a series of numbers into the pad.

The buzzer lets them in, and in an instance he recognizes where they are. From the pale blue wallpaper decorated with stickers to the ornaments dangling from the ceiling, he knows exactly where they are. The drawings plastered on the nurses' station, signed with brightly colored crayons in large children's handwriting is the last clue. He turns to the nurse wide-eyed, "The children's ward? Eva, what are we doing here?"

"Listen," she instructs quietly, meandering across the painted yellow brick road floor tiles toward the nurses' station packed with a few women dressed in Santa hats and reindeer headbands.

Shooting her a frustrated, perturbed look, Kurt stops at the doorway, closing his eyes to listen better. He doesn't hear anything at first, too focused on the gentle beating coming from the monitors, but then he hears it. Singing.

He pauses momentarily to glance at the Eva, but she's already submersed in a giggling conversation with the other pediatric nurses. He should really go back, but Kurt can't help it. He begins to walk slowly toward the sound, catching himself as he starts to hum along to the very familiar melody.

__

Oh, the weather outside is frightful

But the fire's so delightful

And since we've no place to go

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

He stops in front of the toy room, leaning against the doorframe to watch. Although it's late and the little ones should be in bed, there are at least seventeen children ranging from five to fifteen in the middle of the toy room. Several of them are sitting, clinging to IV poles and oxygen masks, and a handful of them don't even look sick they're so entranced with the display. There are a few parents and nurses hanging around by the windows watching the spectacle in the center of the room.

And in the center of the room, is none other than his twenty-five year old patient wearing a Santa hat and holding out a handful of candy canes to the younger children at his feet. He's handsome as ever—well, as handsome as Kurt's allowed to think about his patients—and looks refreshingly healthy for someone who had just recently had his gallbladder removed.

He's leading the children and teenagers in a rousing rendition of 'Let it Snow', accompanied by a stilted piano melody played by one of the pediatric doctors. Blaine Anderson sings freely, brilliant grin on his face and twirls two little boys simultaneously without stopping.

__

It doesn't show signs of stopping

But I've got some corn for popping

The lights are turned way down low

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

He ambles over to the five nurses watching from the decorated toy room windows, and grabs one of the pretty blonde nurses, Callie, to twirl even as he continues to sing. He slowly draws a smile out of every nurse near the windows, singing and handing out chocolates and candy canes to each one. He does the same to the parents, cajoling some of them into dancing with their young children.

__

When we finally kiss goodnight

How I'll hate to go out in the cold

But if you'll really hold me tight

All the way home I'll be warm

He grabs the hand of one of the tiny, younger girls, who's pale and gaunt, but eager to dance with him no less. He leads her into the center of the room, taking most of her weight and leads her in an easy waltz that draws the biggest smile onto her face.

__

The fire is slowly dying

And, my dear, we're still goodbying

But as along as you love me so

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow! 

Once she's safely deposited in her father's arms, there's a cry from several of the younger children, and older girls, who want to be danced with and twirled. He begs them off, handing out small, cheap little trinkets to keep them occupied, and begins once again to make his way around the room again, thanking the nurses personally and handing out more chocolates, until he comes to a halt in front of one Dr. Kurt Hummel.

Kurt Hummel would like to think that he's at least a little intimidating, but Blaine Anderson only smiles sweetly at his doctor, holding out a multi-colored mint candy cane for Kurt, "Merry Christmas, Dr. Hummel."

Kurt can't help the smile that creeps on his face. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, and shakes his head, trying to at least look like he's upset that his patient is out of bed. He can't help the amusement in his voice, "Mr. Anderson, aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"I couldn't sleep!" Blaine Anderson protests with a weak smile, "Cami mentioned how many kids were here and I wanted to make them feel better. I just wanted to spread some holiday cheer," He raises his arms in a helpless gesture, blush rising on his cheeks as Kurt raises a single eyebrow in knowing fashion. He doesn't have any other excuses, and Kurt knows that. He doesn't say anything though because Kurt is more concerned with Blaine's health. He looks over him critically, and finds that the blush only highlights the faint sheen of sweat that glosses Blaine's forehead.

"I think it's time for everyone to sleep," Kurt says to the room at large, laughing as the kids began to complain and whine. "Hey! Don't complain to me! Santa won't come unless you're asleep!" He nods at a few of the nurses who immediately started rounding up their patients despite the protests. He places a warm palm on Blaine's shoulder and slowly helps him to take a seat in the wheelchair Eva brings to him without being asked.

"I don't need a wheelchair," Blaine complains emphatically, even as he takes Kurt's proffered help and gingerly takes a seat with a grimace.

"Of course you don't," Kurt teases with a laugh, waiting until Blaine's comfortably seated to gently pull him out of the room and into the hallway, "How bad is the pain?"

"Fine," Blaine answers breezily with a sigh, grinning and waving at the little kids who shout and plead for him to stay.

"Nope," Kurt says, "We don't lie to doctors, remember? You're little fanclub is going to bed, you can honestly tell me how you feel."

"I don't like the painkillers," Blaine confesses, wrapping an arm around his middle. He sighs, slouching in the wheelchair, "It's like a seven."

"I'm not surprised," Kurt murmurs, "All that dancing must not have felt all that great. How about we try rest and if the pain does get worse we'll get a low dose."

"Okay," Blaine answers faintly disappointed.

"The kids liked it," Kurt says softly, "So did the nurses."

"It made them smile," Blaine answers with a faint smile. "They're so young and they don't deserve to be here for the holidays. I just want them to be happy on Christmas."

"They deserve it," Kurt agrees, "Some of them are so young. They really should be happy."

"And so should you," Blaine says, pausing for a second to then clumsily add, "I mean the nurses and doctors too, but I think it's incredible that you're here when you probably have a wife and children at home."

As they enter Blaine's thankfully empty room, Kurt barks out a laugh, sliding the wheelchair next to the bed so Blaine can get out without too much difficulty. "What makes you say that?"

"You?" Blaine looks up as he begins to stand, eyes widening in shock. He takes a deep breath, gripping Kurt's proffered hand for assistance, hunching over as he gingerly lowers himself onto the bed. He doesn't have enough energy to lie down in the same breath, but he looks up with a smile for Kurt, "If you don't mind me staying, you're handsome, compassionate and kind. How do you not have someone in your life?"

Kurt's flustered enough that he only manages a polite smile, before moving nearer to the bed to help Blaine. He presses the button to raise the bed, and helps Blaine slide his legs onto the bed and over. It's hard work and he looks absolutely miserable, so very different from the façade he wore while playing with the children. Blaine sinks into the bed in relief when it's finally over, and Kurt takes a seat beside him in the recliner, leaning forward to smooth the sheet and quilt, "I had a boyfriend but he didn't understand my hours."

"It's gotta be hard," Blaine says, reaching for the blanket and hissing a groan when it pulls on his side. He gives up and instead, rolls his head to his side, giving Kurt a tired smile, "I have normal hours—I teach Artistic Performance at NYU—and it's still hard to maintain a relationship."

Kurt reluctantly nods, allowing himself a small smile, "You mean none of the girls who came today were your girlfriend?"

"They wish," Blaine says with a laugh, "I'm gay."

"Oh," Kurt huffs out, surprise evident in his voice and expression.

Blaine laughs even harder, "I know, I know, I've heard it all before. I don't look it."

"I can't say same," Kurt admits joining Blaine in laughter, leaning back in the recliner. "Were they family then?"

For a second, a stormy look crosses Blaine's face. He shakes his head, "Nope. Just really good friends. My family isn't from around here."

Kurt can tell it's not a very pleasant train of thought, and watches as Blaine sinks into the bed as if the weight of the statement is enough to down his entire mood. Blaine closes his eyes, sighing heavily and Kurt wishes he hadn't been nosy enough to ask. He clears his throat, voice turning airy and says, "You'd think two very eligible bachelors would be settled, huh?"

"Yeah," Blaine still looks exhausted, but he opens his eyes to smile at Kurt regardless. Kurt looks him over, examining him thoughtfully. Blaine's far too pale, but he seems better now that he's prone. His hair is wildly curly and his eyes—even half-lidded in exhaustion and pain—are a dazzling hazel. Under the artificial lights, he looks even sicklier than before, with his white pallor and purple bags under his eyes, but somehow, it strikes Kurt with a pang that he's beautiful.

Kurt shakes his head, willing himself not to start something he'll regret and purposefully tears his eyes away from Blaine to glance at his watch. It's ten to eleven, and he's due for another round. "I have to check out the rest of my patients," Kurt finally says. Blaine doesn't answer, blinking sleepy eyes at him, "Now can I expect you to stay here and sleep, or will I find you serenading a seven year old again?"

"I was actually thinking we could perform a duet," Blaine laughs, eyes crinkling in amusement, "How about 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'?"

The choice of songs is a little stunning—especially when Kurt considers what it's about—but the affectionate, sleepy little smile that accompanies his words makes it seem innocent and sweet. Something bubbles unexpectedly in his stomach and Kurt smirks, teasing Blaine, "What if I can't sing?"

"I know you can—" Blaine yawns, "You have a beautiful voice."

Kurt's about to get to his feet when he stops short, "How do you…?"

"You were humming RENT this morning," Blaine murmurs, wrapping an arm around his belly and closing his eyes, "You hit Collins' note exceptionally well."

"I wanted to sing professionally when I was younger," Kurt confesses, "But I went into pre-med instead and here I am today." Blaine hums softly, and Kurt gets to his feet, stretching idly. "I really should go, but I'll be back in a few hours. Merry Christmas, Blaine."

He turns away from Blaine with one last look, mind already locked on all that he should be doing. He knows he has endless charts to mark up, and patients he should be examining and watching over closely. It's tedious and exhausting, but he's so very pleased that he was able to watch and talk to someone as interesting as Blaine during the long, boring night.

"Dr. Hummel?"

He turns on his heel the second Blaine calls his name and slowly walks back toward Blaine's bed. His eyes are suddenly clear of the sleepy haze, so much so that it worries Kurt, "Are you alright? Is it the pain? Eva or Camille will be in soon if you need something stronger."

"No, not at all actually," Blaine looks suddenly nervous, licking his lips hesitantly before blurting out, "I was actually wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me sometime."

"You're my patient," Kurt says evenly, watching Blaine fumble for words with a small private smile.

"I know, I know," Blaine hurriedly adds, "I mean when I'm better and discharged to the care of my normal physician. When I can eat real food and you're not marking my bowel movements, which really creeps me out, by the way," he pauses, thinking hard about what he's said, before taking a deep breath and plowing onward with courage Kurt finds endearing, "We could catch a local show, or grab dinner, or go to a club or anything you want," he takes another pause, biting his lip nervously, "If you don't, that's okay I—I promise this won't be awkward."

Kurt doesn't answer immediately, letting his eyes travel hesitantly over Blaine's exhausted body. He assisted in Blaine's surgery, has read through his medical records, and knows that it's not normal for the twenty-five year old to be holed up in bed. Even though the Blaine in bed if pale and exhausted, Kurt can see him dancing around the children's ward, singing his heart out. From the presents and candies, he doled out to the children and nurses, Kurt knows that he's sweet, kind-hearted and far too generous.

"My name is Kurt, not Dr. Hummel," He answers faintly, smile lighting up his features as he takes a step closer to Blaine. "I'm twenty-six and I like to sing along to Broadway show tunes and pig out on cheesecake, " He reaches out until his hand is touching Blaine's and shrugs lightly, "We can knock out cheesecake because you need to dramatically limit your fat intake, but we can get dinner and catch a show if you want. Maybe before New Year's Eve? You'll need a few days to recuperate at home."

"Perfect. A non-fattening dinner and a show is exactly what I want to do with you." The smile on Blaine's face is blinding, even as he lets himself slouch boneless in the bed, looking thoroughly exhausted but exponentially giddy and relieved. His voice is soft and so very pleased when he says breathlessly, "I can't wait."

All the responsibilities and worries that had been weighing heavily in his mind's eye soften and fade away. His bitter, lonely holiday is looking better and better. He's just as breathless when he answers, smiling threatening to take over his face, as he walks toward the door, "I can't wait either. Merry Christmas, Blaine."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a facebook friend of mine who was stuck in the hospital on Christmas Eve after a minor car accident. He's alright, just banged up, but the second I saw his message I knew it was something silly, cute Blaine would do.


End file.
